Runaways
by godcomplexLoading
Summary: "Mom is going to kill you, Roxy, and I think I may participate in your slaughter. It will be a lovely mother/daughter bonding experience, one I will enjoy particularly since there will hopefully be no alcohol involved. It will be a perfectly reasonable, justified ritual murder for a very stupid girl." Development fic for Gloryseekers AU.


**Summary:** "Mom is going to kill you, Roxy, and I think I may participate in your slaughter. It will be a lovely mother/daughter bonding experience, one I will enjoy particularly since there will hopefully be no alcohol involved. It will be a perfectly reasonable, justified ritual murder for a very stupid girl."

The formation of the second legendary team of Striders and Lalondes was not without its fair share of heartbreak and loss. The reckless decision of the eldest Strilonde children affect their younger siblings in ways no one expected.

Development fic #2 for Gloryseekers AU. Alternately Titled: _The Unbelievably Shitty And Tragic Life Of One Rose Lalonde._

**Disclaimer: **This poorly planned and poorly launched alternate universe is my brainchild, but its other progenitor, the forever beloved and life-changing comic Homestuck, is not my creation. I just realized that analogy makes Andrew Hussie my father-in-law, and that's really weird.

**Author's Note: **No pesterlogs in this one, fuck yes. As always, prone to edits, unlikely to be updated.

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><p><em>Introduction: <em>The only human team to ever win the Great Fight was the nigh-invincible Strider/Lalonde pair, Team Alpha. They defeated the reigning Alternian champions at the time, and the next year, both fighters mysteriously died. Two generations later, no Striders or Lalondes have gone into fighting...until now.

Dirk Strider and Roxy Lalonde find each other quite by accident, and they both immediately know they are meant for greatness. After months of planning, their plot has final come to a head...

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><p>"Mom is going to kill you, Roxy, and I think I may participate in your slaughter. It will be a lovely motherdaughter bonding experience, one I will enjoy particularly since there will hopefully be no alcohol involved. It will be a perfectly reasonable, justified ritual murder for a very stupid girl."

"You're kin'a fucked up for an nine year old, Rosey."

"You're kinda drunk for a twelve year old."

"Rose, _please_, I'm not _drunk_. I am a lil' bit _tispy_."

"Tipsy."

"What?"

"It's pronounced _tipsy_." Rose said it almost mechanically, for she had had this conversation before.

"Shuddup. I am."

Rose sighed and gripped her sister's hand even tighter. They were going to be in so much trouble, she just knew it. If they even made it home. Roxy had been sober on the way there, but they'd passed a bar and of course no Lalonde could just walk by a bar, could they, Rosey? Now she couldn't even walk straight; Rose had to tug her back onto the path she was pretty sure they were supposed to be taking.

"Who is this mystery man, anyway?"

"Ohhh, no one." Roxy grinned, a contagious, easy grin. "Just a _secret admirror of mine_, okay? If anyone asks," her voice faded to a loud whisper, "we're gonna _elope _together, gotsit, Rosey? Gotsit?"

"May I ask the name of this secret admirer?"

There had been a little caterpillar of dread wiggling around in Rose's chest since this whole escapade began, but it started making its cocoon of bad news when Roxy shook her head emphatically, almost falling over in the process. What could it possibly be that Roxy wasn't telling her? Roxy told Rose _everything_, even if she didn't really want to know.

"Can't tell yoouu!" She pressed her finger very tightly to her pursed lips, and looked so uncannily like their mother that Rose almost let go of her hand out of spite. "It's a secret. You'll leave me if you know!"

"I'm stuck with you now."

But she was close-lipped from that point on, not saying anything no matter how Rose pleaded or needled or poked. Their journey was completed in uncomfortable, tense silence broken by occasional drunken curses and giggles. It was like any other day for Rose, really. The only difference was how tall her human guide dog was. Well, she had confiscated the directions almost as soon as they'd stepped planetside, so she supposed she was the guard dog in this situation. Again, like any other day.

"C'mon, this way," she sighed, tugging her sister down an alleyway. She couldn't deny that she was very very curious about who they were going to see. She'd never been to this part of the galaxy before. Instead of their home, which was mostly forest with the occasional huge city or building, this place was lined with tall, identical grey and white buildings, which got increasingly better kept the higher up they went. "We're almost there, I think."

The handwriting on the note, which had been sendificated, she thought, was open and resembled a font that she had a particular kind of hatred for. There was no indication as to their destination, just a circled declaration that said, "And then you'll be there. Congratulations. Ring three times, the door'll be unlocked." Roxy had waved the note around and said that it was surprisingly succinct for "him," but still refused to tell Rose just who _he _was.

Their journey took them to an apartment building that was exactly the same as every other. Roxy spent about five minutes wrestling with the door before Rose pulled her off. People stared at them as they walked past, for the hour was not quite late enough for them to be alone. Roxy sat down on the curb, pouting. "Why'd you stop me? I totally coulda jimmied that shit open like no thang!" She grinned and leaned back, almost tripping a man running breakneck down the road.

"You're going to set off some kind of alarm," Rose scolded, and began to dig around in her bag until she pulled out her mother's id, or one of them. She never left home without it. Due to her position, her card could unlock pretty much anything on human-owned soil, and even some things off. Rose had used it to get out of several sticky situations before, and at this point she practically had her mother's blessing in raiding her wallet.

"Get up." She was probably rougher than she needed to be, yanking Roxy to her "tispy" feet and dragging her through the door, which closed itself a lot slower than she expected. The air inside was far cooler than she would have liked and she began to shiver as they marched with apparent purpose down the short hall to the lobby, which was cramped and grey. Rose's grip on Roxy's hand was tight, so tight she could see her sister's fingers darkening, which made her grip even tighter. She was getting annoyed at this point, and though she kept her face cool, she was starting to worry that something bad was going to happen. Dread had settled in her stomach and she wanted nothing more than to walk back out the door and take her sister with her.

The lobby was…surprisingly swanky. Rose felt very out of place in her t-shirt and denim skirt when all the people lounging around, even the kids, were in clothes she had peeked at in magazines before turning away from (and then later accepting as well-intended gifts from her mother), and she ducked her head as she dragged Roxy to a chair. She hoped they didn't look too bad; she cared little for her sister's reputation and was too young to have her own, but she knew that some people might recognize them or might start talking to someone who did, and then they were fucked.

Rose had been making half-hearted plans to ask someone inside for water to maybe sober her sister up a little bit, but looking around, no one looked like they would give her food if she were starving. She sighed and sat down in the chair beside Roxy, just far enough away that her older sister had to tip hersel over to a comical degree to lean on her, which of course she did. She kept her hands in her lap and looked around with the practiced ease of someone who had been out of place many times before. Several people stopped to stare at them on their way in or out, and she would just smile sweetly up at them, not blinking or moving, until they shuffled away, feeling uncomfortable, ashamed, and somewhat violated.

It was a pointless thing to do, but Rose pulled out her phone. No messages, neither from worried mother nor nagging friend. Not that she had many friends to nag her. Really, she only had the one, and she had no idea what time it was where he was. She scrolled through old messages and played a few mindless games before returning her precious lifeline to her bag and resuming her little game of staring down anyone who thought they were some kind of traveling circus act to be gawked at.

"What apartment is he in?" she asked suddenly. Roxy, who had been drifting off at her side, jerked away with a startled mumble.

"Mmph?"

She sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "What apartment number is your little friend in? Please tell me you know."

"Erm…ummm." Roxy sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes. She still smelled like alcohol, but Rose thought she was beginning to sober up a little bit. They'd been sitting at least twenty minutes, but to her younger mind, that was plenty long enough. "He, uh…"

Rose felt her face drain. "Please tell me you know," she repeated, her voice falling into a low whisper that was a somewhat amusing imitation of a grave tone.

"Of course, he's in…penthouse." The last word was almost completely drowned out by a huge yawn, and she almost punched Rose in the face stretching. "Verrrrrrry tippy top of the building."

"Of course he is."

Rose's stomach growled, and she knew she couldn't delay any longer. She got up and spent a great deal of time smoothing the thick wrinkles out of her skirt. "C'mon." She tugged at Roxy's hand, trying to drag her to the stairs. "I want to get out of here."

"Rosey, you're a_ slave driv'r_," Roxy complained, pulling back, refusing to budge from her seat. "Lemme rest a lil' bit!" She tried to pull her hand out of Rose's grip, but Rose had played this game before, and with someone much stronger.

"No!" Rose tried to keep her voice down, but she had been walking all day and her legs hurt and she was tired and people were staring at her and she _wanted to go home_, and the faster Roxy concluded her business here, the faster she could do that. "C'mon, we're going to meet your stupid boyfriend."

"Oh…ohhh…ohhhh sweet innocent, Rosey…" Roxy tugged Rose closer and said in a very loud and conspicuous whisper, "I already tried that, Rosey. But he's…he's not my…!" She sighed deeply. "'m not his _type_."

After a great deal of huffing, hugging, cajoling, scolding, and pulling, Rose finally got Roxy on her feet and aimed towards the stairs (Roxy was afraid of elevators for reasons Rose didn't even have the energy to think about right now). Rose insisted she not be leaned on, claiming Roxy needed to look even somewhat sober, if no other reason than to keep people from calling authorities. They made the compromise that Roxy didn't have to talk if Rose didn't have to carry her.

After seven flights of stairs, Rose was starting to doubt this was all worth it. At eleven, she was ready to punch whoever this mystery man was in the junk, or the knee, or whatever the hell was closer. At fifteen, she wanted to just fall back down, who cared if the fall killed her. Her legs felt like they were on fire and Roxy had started leaning on her again and she began to wish she'd taken up her mother's offer to join the track team of the girls' academy not fifty miles from them, even if she wasn't actually in the school.

The final flight of stairs was a relief, and if she hadn't known it was the last, she wouldn't have found the strength to get up.

"Thirty…one…_floors_," she panted, hissing at Roxy, who was leaning on the wall at the top of the stairs. She had intended to scold her or threaten her or something, but now she found she didn't have the energy.

Of course, there was only door on this floor. Roxy stayed on the wall as if she intended to become one with it, and Rose had known from the tenth flight that she was going to be the one to ring the doorbell. That was why she was here, really. Roxy hated knocking on doors and using elevators and buying things and talking to people, and really, if Rose hadn't been here, she would never have gotten out of the damned car and would still be sitting there in a parking lot, staring at the wheel with white knuckles.

_At least she'd still be sober._

Rose stood in front of the door for…for a very long time. Her stomach was in her knees and her heart was in her throat and she suddenly wanted to run, but she didn't have any energy. Her hands shook in their little fists and she was suddenly aware of how very small she was. She swallowed, raised her hand, and knocked three times on the door.


End file.
